The Sheriff's Son
by ToriTC198
Summary: Detective Derek Hale got transferred to Beacon Hills when the NYPD decided he couldn't handle New York anymore. Derek is determined to hate it. When he shows up for work and discovers who is partner is things only get worse. What's more, it becomes clear pretty quickly that this town is hiding something big. Derek wants to know what it is. Slow build Sterek. Cop AU.
1. Beacon Hills

AN: Well it was suggested to me that I write an AU. So here goes.

* * *

Derek Hale sighed in resignation as he passed the, "Welcome to Beacon Hills," sign. This was it. This small little nothing of a town was going to be his home for the foreseeable future. They had called it a transfer but Derek knew it was more of a time out. They didn't want him working the streets of New York anymore after all that had happened. They didn't trust him not to hunt down the murderer who had taken away his family. They were probably right.

Still, did it have to be a place like Beacon Hills that he got sent to? Why not another big city? He would happily have gone to Seattle or San Francisco or any place big enough to at least have a skyscraper. This place that wasn't even big enough to have more than one Sheriff's Office was going to be the death of him. Except it wouldn't, because nothing as exciting as death would ever happen in a place like this.

Derek resisted the urge to punch his steering wheel or something. He wondered how long he would have to play nice in this crap town before he could file for transfer back to New York. The cop in him was on high alert as he drove. Not because he suspected danger but because that was what he was trained to do. He paid attention to every shady looking building and dark alley he drove past. He kept an eye out for suspicious characters and hapless bystanders. He logged every single detail of this place in his mind. He may not like the place, but he was sure as hell going to do the best job he could of protecting it from whatever it needed help with.

The buildings started to disappear as he turned onto the long road leading through the forest at the edge of town. He felt a little bit more at ease in the trees, he had always liked woods. His mind briefly flashed back to childhood memories of going camping with his family but he quickly dragged himself away from those thoughts. He finally reached the address of his new house and let out an exasperated groan. It was much worse than the pictures had made it seem. This old house looked about ready to fall apart on him and, not for the first time, he wondered why he had chosen to buy a house away from town instead of living in the town. The answer of course was that he didn't want to live in town. He really didn't like the town.

Shutting off his car, Derek eased himself out of the seat. His muscles protested the move and his spine cracked and popped as he forced it into a standing position. Three solid days of driving with only brief stops for food and quick naps was not something his body agreed with. He trudged up to the steps of his new house and with caution he started up to the porch. Every creaking step made him feel like the entire place was going to just give up and collapse on top of him. He made it to the door, pulled out his new set of keys, and slowly opened it. A musty smell filled his nose as he peered in. It was dark and everything was covered in dust. When the ad had called the place a fixer-upper they had not been lying. Broken pieces of wood littered the entry way and the staircase was missing half its banister.

As he walked gingerly through the house he counted three broken windows, twelve holes in the wall, seven mysterious stains and three dozen damaged floorboards. He flipped a light switch in the kitchen and was relieved to see that at least the electricity worked. He soon discovered that water worked too. He was glad to know that the utilities had been turned on when they were supposed to. At least the place was livable. A few coats of paint, some new flooring, and perhaps a complete scrub down were needed but he could make this work.

For a few minutes he just stood staring around him and trying to imagine what this place would look like all fixed up. He had to admit it would look pretty fantastic. It may be falling apart, but the house had clearly been beautiful before it fell into disrepair and Derek was certain it could be beautiful again.

For now though, he had to work on getting moved in. He didn't have much but it still took six trips to his car and back before he had all his boxes in. Most of his belongings had gone up in the same flames that his family had. Again Derek forced his mind away from those thoughts. This was a fresh start; a break from everything that had happened. He could think about the killer some other day when he eventually made it back to New York.

Derek walked through the house again, this time depositing his stuff in the proper rooms. The house had come with most of the furniture still in it (The last owner had left it all behind in a rush to leave town) which was good because Derek really hadn't felt like going couch shopping and he didn't have any furniture of his own. The couch in question was as covered in dust as everything else but it would do. The bed upstairs was equally dusty and he sneezed as a cloud of it floated into the air when he dropped a box on the bed. He brushed the rest the dust onto the floor as best he could and then flopped onto the bed. His hands laced together behind his head and he stared up at the ceiling deciding what to tackle first.

A low rumble made up his mind for him. Food. Food was his first priority. He couldn't remember the last time he had stopped for food on his cross country drive. Derek pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed and reached for the box sitting next to him. He pulled his laptop out of it and glanced around the room until he found an outlet near the desk in the corner of the room. While he waited for the computer to boot up, Derek rifled through the box some more and brought out his bed sheets and a small pile of books. The books went on the nightstand in a haphazard pile and, after another attempt to brush off all the dust; Derek stretched the sheets across his new bed. He didn't feel like a thorough cleaning right now.

Derek returned to the desk and sat down in the old wooden chair. He took a deep breath and hoped that his internet had been set up the day before like it was supposed to be. You never knew with these small town cable companies. He was certain that they would be less reliable than a city company. Still, the Wi-Fi symbol blinked merrily at him from the corner of his screen and he breathed a sigh of relief as he opened a new window.

"Beacon Hills Grocery Store", he typed into the search bar. Big surprise, there was only one in the town. Derek wrote down the address and headed out the door. His body complained to being shoved back into the car it had only recently escaped but Derek just grimaced at the sore muscles and threw the car into reverse.

The store looked inviting enough. That pissed Derek off. He wanted to hate everything about this town. Friendliness was not supposed to be present here. He scowled as he grabbed a cart at the entrance and he frowned when someone greeted him warmly as he passed by.

Twenty minutes later Derek had amassed a wonderful collection of soup cans, frozen meals, and boxes of macaroni. He was just reaching to grab some hamburger helper too when he heard a voice behind him.

"Well if that isn't the shopping cart of a bachelor I don't know what is."

Derek turned swiftly to look at the person who had interrupted his quiet hatred of Beacon Hills. A smiling face met his glare and didn't dim even when Derek made a conscious effort to glare harder. The man in front of him looked to be a few years younger than him, early twenties most likely, and he had bright brown eyes, short brown hair, and a few moles decorating the side of his face and neck. Derek continued to glare as he looked the man over but in the back of his mind he admitted that this man was attractive as hell.

The guy stuck his hand out and exclaimed, "Name's Stiles. I don't know you, which means you must be new. You must be the new detective. I heard you were arriving today. Your name is Derek right?"

Derek nodded briefly and reached his hand out to slowly shake the hand of the rather enthusiastic Stiles. 'Who the hell names their kid Stiles?' he thought.

"I'm glad to finally meet you. You're going to absolutely love Beacon Hills. It's fantastic here. I can show you all the best spots to hang out. I'll tell you where the best food is, the best places to meet people, the best coffee shop in town…" Stiles rambled on.

And that was it. The man was no longer attractive. He was just annoying. Derek pondered the best way to escape from the incessant talking of the younger man. In the end he elected to simply walk away. He pushed the cart to the check-out line and left the store in a hurry.

Derek arrived home and after putting his food away he heated up some soup and after eating his fill he went to bed. His day had been long and tiring so he didn't care that it was only 7 o'clock at night.

* * *

Stiles stared after Derek as he went but made no move to follow. 'Well alright then.' He thought to himself. 'Not the most talkative guy. Oh well. Damn he's hot though.' Stiles grinned and then turned around to continue his shopping.

The next morning Stiles got up just a little bit earlier than usual. He practically bounced with excitement before he remembered that bouncing was not very manly. Sometimes he wondered if he had ever actually grown out of his ADD like his doctor claimed. He downed a cup of coffee and got in his beaten up old Jeep to head to work.

When he arrived he greeted Lydia at the front desk and walked back to his office. He tidied his desk up a little bit, wanting it to look impressive and professional. A throat cleared at the door and he glanced up to see his dad standing there looking at him, clearly amused.

"Are you ready for today?" His dad inquired.

"Definitely! I can handle this."

"Remember what we talked about?"

Stiles' face fell a little. "Yeah, dad. I know better than anyone what happens when people get involved with things they shouldn't. I won't tell any secrets."

His dad clapped him on the shoulder briefly, "I know son. This will turn out fine." His dad left then and Stiles stared at his desk for another few minutes.

* * *

Derek walked into the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department and was greeted warmly by a woman with fiery red hair. She stood up to shake his hand and asked, "Detective Derek Hale I presume? We're happy to have you here. I'm Officer Martin."

Derek forced a smile as he shook hands with her. She seemed nice enough. He felt claustrophobic in this precinct though. It was less than a third the size of the one he had worked at in New York. Nothing he could do to fix it though so he made himself stand a little taller and smile with a little more charm.

From the corner of his eye Derek saw a man walk out of one of the offices further back in the building. Derek could see the sheriff's badge prominently displayed and the commanding aura the man gave off tempted Derek to snap off a salute but he resisted the urge. The sheriff reached him and shook his hand. Derek was doing a lot of hand shaking lately.

"Detective Hale, good to finally meet you. I'm Sheriff Stilinski. I'm sure you'll fit right in here. Let me start by showing you to your office and introducing you to your partner." Sheriff Stilinski guided him down the hall and right up to the door that he had just recently come out of. "Detective Derek Hale, your new partner Detective Stiles Stilinski."

The first thing Derek felt was annoyance. What was the annoying kid from yesterday doing in his new office? Then he noticed the detective badge and the hesitant smile and the way the sheriff was looking at him expectantly and, shit, this guy was his new partner. Detective Stilinski the sheriff had called him. Sheriff Stilinski… Detective Stilinski… Derek looked between the two men and, yep, he could totally see the resemblance now.

This all happened very quickly in Derek's mind and he willed his face not to show what was going on in his mind. "Detective Stilinski." Derek stated with a brief nod. "It's good to meet you."

"I'll let Stiles here show you the ropes." The sheriff said as he left the room. Apparently the sheriff was the kind of parent who would name his kid Stiles. Who'd have known?

Then Derek made his way to the empty desk in the room and sat down heavily in the chair. Stiles grinned at him in a way that Derek would almost have described as maniacal. Great. Just great. He was stuck in a stupid small town and his stupid new partner was the son of the sheriff. Looking at the young man Derek doubted he even knew how to shoot a gun. He probably only got this job because of his father. Typical. Derek's day was off to a great start.

* * *

AN: Hope you like the start of my first AU. Let me know.


	2. Something Suspicious

AN: Here is chapter two. Enjoy!

* * *

To distract himself from the annoyance of discovering he was working with some idiot with connections, Derek started exploring his new desk. He started by turning on the computer and while he waited for that he checked through the drawers to see what they had given him. Standard amount of paper, plenty of blank forms for various uses, and in the far back corner of the bottom drawer something gleamed at him. Confused, Derek reached back and pulled it out.

A small glass wolf. It was black with bright blue eyes. It stood as if howling at the moon and Derek marveled at how each individual piece of fur fell perfectly. For a brief time he was so entranced that he almost forgot he was supposed to be glaring at everything. He looked questioningly over to Stiles to see if he knew what the wolf was.

"Shit." Stiles muttered when he saw the wolf. "I'm sorry Derek. That belonged to my last partner. I must have missed it when I cleaned out his desk."

"Will he want it back?" Derek asked.

Stiles looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Um… No. I don't imagine he will."

Derek placed the wolf on his desk and shut the desk drawer again. If ex-partner didn't want it back there was no reason Derek couldn't leave it with the desk. It added a nice touch. Stiles was still staring awkwardly at the wolf but Derek ignored him and turned to the computer that had finished starting. "Stilinski. Can you show me how to get logged into the system here?"

Stiles shook himself out of whatever had been happening in his head and replied, "Yeah. It's pretty simple. Username is BeaconPD and the password is Allison."

"Allison?" Derek said slowly with a raised eyebrow.

"That's Scott's fault." Stiles explained. "He was the one in charge of choosing a password and now none of us can figure out how to change it to something else." There was a pause as Derek logged into the system and made sure everything was working properly. "Hey, speaking of Scott, I need to show you around. Introduce you to the rest of the team."

Derek nodded unenthusiastically as he locked his computer and stood up to follow after Stiles. Stiles took him first back to the locker room and the adjoining gym. "This is your locker." Stiles pointed to a locker that had recently had a name scratched off it. Derek made a mental note in the back of his mind to find out later why Stiles had looked sad when he passed the locker. "Through there is the gym. There's not much there." Stiles continued the tour leading him to the cells, the evidence lock-up, the filing room, a meeting room, and finally back to the offices.

Stiles grinned cheerfully as he stuck his head in the first office. "Scott, my man, come meet Derek." From inside the office came a guy who Derek assumed must be Scott. "Scott, this is Derek. Derek, this is Detective Scott." Stiles introduced them and as he said Derek's name he plopped his hand onto Derek' shoulder. The glare Derek gave him could have killed. "Uh, sorry." Stiles hastily removed his hand. "No touching then? I can deal with that."

Scott didn't comment on the exchange, he simply nodded at Derek and started up a conversation. "So, how are you liking Beacon Hills?"

"It's small."

"Well that's true enough. It's part of why I like it here though."

"I don't like small."

Scott looked taken aback and he struggled to find an answer. "Well maybe you'll change your mind if you just give Beacon Hills a chance." Scott finally said. Then he perked up and smiled broadly, "Hey, if you want to get to know some more people my wife Allison and I would be glad to have you over. Allison is wonderful. She alone could convince you to like Beacon Hills." Scott's eyes had gone a little hazy and his voice was dreamy.

Derek fought the urge to throw up. He actually found himself thankful for Stiles all of a sudden when he said, "No, Scott, I will not have you scaring off my new partner on his first day because you can't stop gushing over Allison. Come on, Derek." Stiles turned and walked further down the hall. At the next office he actually went in so Derek followed after and walked into a room with two more guys. "Derek this is Officer Danny and Detective Isaac. Isaac is Scott's partner. He's helping Danny out a bit while his partner Jackson is out." Stiles paused and looked like he was searching for the right words. "Jackson is out sick right now." He finally concluded. "Jackson is a bit of a jerk anyway so you aren't missing much."

"Hey!" The officer named Danny protested. Stiles gave him a look and Danny conceded, "Yeah, you're right. He is a jerk sometimes." Isaac chuckled and continued to fill out some paperwork at what Derek assumed was Jackson's desk.

"Anyway," Stiles stated, "You two seem busy so I'll go introduce Derek to the last two." This time Stiles led him back to the front of the precinct. "Derek, this is Officer Lydia and her partner Officer Erica. They got stuck with front desk duty today so try to make fun of them as much as possible."

Lydia, the red head from earlier, beamed at Derek while gently elbowing Erica in the side to get her attention. Erica looked up at him with tired eyes and gave a weak smile. "Good to have you here." She intoned before looking back down to the desk.

"You've already met the sheriff, he's my dad," Stiles said with pride. "So that's the whole clan. We're pretty small so we all do pretty much everything. You and I will eventually have to work front desk once in a while too. Everyone pulls their weight. It's not hard; it just means we take in the emergency phone calls and if people show up here directly we help them out. No big deal."

Derek gave what could only be described as a grunt. Stiles assumed that was meant to convey Derek's understanding. "Right. Well, I have a case I'm working on right now so we should get back to our own office. You can finish getting settled in." Stiles headed off in the direction of the office and Derek trailed behind.

"If you have a case doesn't that mean I have a case too?" Derek asked with a tone that implied Stiles was an idiot.

"I guess that's true." Stiles shuffled back and forth on his feet. Derek got the distinct impression again that Stiles was searching for the correct words. In Derek's experience that generally meant you were looking for a valid lie. He would have to keep an eye on Stiles. "You can help me with some of the case. It would just be hard to catch you up to speed at this point so I figured I'd let you pick up on the next new case."

The two had made it back to the office by this point and instead of heading to his own desk he waited next to Stiles'. "So, tell me about the case."

Stiles moved some papers around on the desk and it took a few seconds for him to meet Derek's gaze. When he spoke it was with a voice that seemed much more clinical and detached than the exuberant voice he had been using so far. "There's a guy who's going around attacking people. He's been pretty vicious so far. One person… One person has been killed." Derek didn't miss the slight hitch in Stiles' voice. "A few others have come close. Jackson inclu…" Stiles stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat nervously. "Jackson was the one assigned to the case before he got sick and then it got handed to us."

Something was definitely wrong with the way Stiles had said Jackson was sick. Not to mention that Derek was almost positive Stiles had been about to imply that Jackson had been hurt by the criminal they were after. If a cop had gotten hurt in the line of duty why was Stiles hiding it? There were a lot of questions rising in Derek's mind. Something was off about this whole place. Instead of confronting Stiles, Derek asked, "What do we know about the culprit?"

"Not much. Witness reports say it's a white male with black hair and that's about all we have for a physical description. Attacks happen in the woods mostly or on the edge of them; nothing in town. That's probably why there aren't many witnesses." Stiles pointed to a map that he had laid out on his desk. "Each 'X' is a spot where an attack happened. We haven't found any sort of pattern yet. They seem fairly random. We'll find something though."

"Do you know the motive? Do the victims have anything in common?" Derek felt like he was dragging the information out of Stiles.

"Motive? No, there isn't a motive. Just crime of convenience attacks. The victims have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Derek was certain now that Stiles had only gotten this job because of his dad. It was ridiculous to assume there was no motive at this point. It didn't sound like there was anywhere near enough information to determine that. What mattered was catching the guy though so Derek pulled the map a little closer to him and leaned down to look closer at it.

Grudgingly he had to admit that Stiles was right. There didn't seem to be much pattern to the locations. They were all over the forest. Still, there had to be something. Maybe this, 'Jackson,' would be better able to enlighten Derek on the case since Derek's own partner seemed to be an idiot.

Derek went back to his own desk and got quietly started filling out the paperwork that confirmed he had arrived and started work at his new precinct.

* * *

Night had fallen and a full moon shone down on Derek where he stood on the sidewalk. In his hand Derek held a slip of paper with an address on it. He hadn't expected the address to be such a nice place. Cops didn't usually make enough money for that. He supposed Jackson could have gotten family money like Derek himself had. He walked up at the rich white house and was about to knock on the door when he heard a very loud crash inside. It sounded like something, or someone, had been thrown against the wall.

"Jackson! Get ahold of yourself! Find an anchor!" Derek stiffened. That voice, which still sounded annoying even when tinged with anger and panic, was Stiles. Should Derek burst through the door and help his idiot partner? Did Stiles need help? What on earth was happening?

"Come on Officer. I know it's your first moon but you have to control yourself." This voice was much calmer but still sounded stressed out. It also clearly belonged to Sheriff Stilinski.

'First moon?' Derek thought to himself. He glanced up at the moon in the sky above him. 'It's not like the moon popped into existence today. How exactly is this Jackson's first moon?'

"Dad, you didn't bring enough chains!" Now Derek was beyond confused. What the hell would the sheriff and his son need chains for? What were they even doing in Jackson's house talking about the moon and an anchor?

"Guys, he will get more control of this for future shifts right?" This time the voice was female. It was familiar to Derek but he wasn't quite sure who it was.

Thankfully Stiles inadvertently answered Derek's question. "He'll be fine, Lydia. The others are all able to control it, Jackson will be too. It would have been a hell of a lot better for him if he had had a bit more time between being attacked and the full moon though."

Others? What did Stiles mean when he said others? And what did this have to do with the attacks that had been happening?

Finally realizing that standing with his ear pressed against a door that could open at any time wasn't the most subtle move, Derek slowly backed away and towards the sidewalk again. His mind was in overdrive trying to put together all the pieces. What in the hell was going on in this small, stupid, little town? Derek didn't know if he should be even more annoyed at his situation or slightly happier. All he knew was that this town, or at least the police department in it, had a mystery for him to solve. He intended to solve it.

* * *

AN: Please review. Remember I can't become a better writer without helpful feedback.


	3. Dead Body

Stiles wiped the sweat off his face before it had a chance to drip down into his eyes. He looked down at Jackson with relief. Despite the struggles of the new werewolf, the chains appeared to be holding. Jackson was clearly unhappy about it as he snarled and growled at Stiles and his dad, but Stiles couldn't find it in his heart to care.

He remembered the first time he had done this with Scott; and he actually liked Scott. Jackson being unhappy was barely a blip on his radar compared to having to chain his best friend up like the wild animal he sometimes was.

A flash of movement and red hair from his right told Stiles that Lydia was coming closer. She stood beside Stiles and stared at Jackson with sadness in her eyes. "What am I going to do, Stiles?" She asked.

"The same thing we've always done. We take care of them on the full moon until they learn control. We keep them a secret from the world. You specifically should talk to Allison. If anyone would know your position it's her. She's the only other one mated to a wolf. From the way she talks, it really isn't that bad once they get control."

Stiles had spoken with confidence and authority because he knew it was what Lydia needed to hear. Watching Jackson though, he could understand why Lydia was scared for her future. Stiles felt a fresh surge of anger towards the rogue werewolf that was plaguing Beacon Hills. It had shown up a little over two months ago and in such a short time had taken so much away from their small town.

Jackson had been an idiot really, everyone knew it. He had gone out in search of the rogue wolf alone in a desperate bid for revenge. While the rest of the team armed themselves with wolfs bane bullets and crossbows Jackson had wandered around the woods with a pocket knife and a police standard gun equipped with regular bullets. It was no wonder the guy had gotten attacked; a miracle he hadn't been killed. Still, despite his lack of good choices no one deserved to get the bite against their will. Jackson would never be the same and neither would poor Lydia as she tried to cope with this new development.

The three humans jumped when the sheriff's radio crackled to life. "All units we have a 187 behind the High School. I repeat, 187 behind High School."

Sheriff Stilinski met his son's eyes with weariness as they both wondered who the wolf had killed this time. The sheriff turned to Lydia and ordered her to stay behind and keep an eye on Jackson. Then Stiles and his dad headed for the squad car waiting in the driveway and after confirming with dispatch that they were on route they headed to the site of yet another murder.

Derek jerked awake to the sound of, "All units we have a 187 behind the High School. I repeat, 187 behind High School." He groggily looked at the clock and saw that it was 1 in the morning. Fantastic. Maybe keeping his police scanner on at night was not the best for his sleep patterns. He stumbled blearily out of bed and quickly dressed before heading into town and to the High School he had seen the other day.

The sheriff and Stiles were the first on the scene with the exception of Scott and Isaac who appeared to be the ones who had found the body. Scott looked at the two when they arrived and quickly walked to intersect them. "Sir," He addressed the sheriff, "this isn't the same thing we've been dealing with."

"So what is it?" Sheriff Stilinski inquired.

Stiles didn't want to wait for an answer; instead he ducked around Scott and headed straight for the body. As he neared he was relieved to see the face didn't look familiar to him but that was about the only relief he got. As he neared the body he saw the pool of blood fanning out from them and he could tell with just a glance that Scott was right. This was not their resident rogue werewolf. This was something that could be much worse.

The most obvious cause of death was the crushed in skull. Upon closer inspection more signs were visible. A thin wire dug into the flesh of the neck cutting through deep enough to sever the arteries along the throat. Dark purple bruises stood out, visible even through all the blood, as clear signs of strangulation too. Stiles felt sick to his stomach just looking at the body sprawled in front of him. Whoever had done this was most assuredly not a werewolf. It also wasn't the way the Argent's dealt with rogue wolves so Stiles concluded that this was not in fact their local rogue brought down by hunters.

When Stiles tore his gaze away from the poor dead guy he was startled to find Derek across from him glowering at the world. "You didn't need to come in for this. You're not even on duty right now."

"Neither are you."

Stiles laughed bitterly. "I'm always on duty."

Derek made no comment about that but he did change the topic quite well. "I haven't looked enough at the reports of your recent attacks yet. Is this the same as the previous attacks or has he changed his pattern?"

"No. This is completely new. It has nothing to do with the other guy."

Derek's face got even darker for a moment and he made an odd sound as if he was fighting not to yell, but the moment passed and Derek just walked away to talk to the sheriff. Stiles turned back to the body and started helping Isaac look for some clue as to the identity of the new enemy in town. Stiles could not put into words how much he hoped this enemy was just some crazy serial killer and not another brush with the supernatural.

When Stiles arrived at the office the next morning, after a lovely two hours of sleep, Derek was already there. More specifically he was at Stiles' desk looking through Stiles' case notes. "Hey! Hale! Do those look like they were inviting you to look at them?" He asked snatching them away.

Derek leveled a glare at him, Stiles was glad to note that Derek's glares were slightly less effective now as he got more used to them. "I was trying to do my job. Is that a problem with you?"

"You don't need to worry about the old attacks. Focus on the one last night. What do we have so far on that?"

"Nothing new since last night. No evidence left behind, just a dead body. Sheriff identified the guy as Jacob Carter, a senior at the High School. Coroner is still working on the autopsy. Since we have no new evidence yet from last night I was _trying _to identify a connection between the attacks."

"There isn't one."

Derek looked at him as if he was the stupidest person on the planet. "A very violent murder happens right in the midst of very violent attacks and murders that have been occurring regularly for two months and you automatically assume they aren't linked? Shouldn't you at least consider the possibility?"

"I don't need to. They aren't linked. One is vicious yet random attacks that always occur in or near the woods and this new one was a calculated murder that took place in town. I can guarantee that it is not the same person."

"That's exactly the sort of detective work I expected from you." Derek muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Stiles was getting angry now. He knew he couldn't blame Derek for not understanding, but couldn't he just trust that Stiles had been working the case long enough to know what he was talking about?

Derek stood up from the desk and despite their almost identical height he seemed to tower over Stiles. "You heard what I said, Stilinski." His voice dripped with irritation and disgust. "Do you even know how to work a case? From what I've seen you just make assumptions about killers and refuse to do the leg work to actually investigate. Yesterday you told me that there was no motive on the attacks, today you assure me that the violent occurrences are in no way connected. There is _always _a motive. And, especially in a small town like this, the chances of two violent psychopaths are remote yet you won't even consider that they might be the same. It's lazy work. So, if you want to just live off your dad's skills and reputation that's fine with me but do not interfere with me when I try to actually do my job."

Stiles gaped at him not sure if he should be furious or just offended. His dilemma was answered quickly when Derek tacked on one last afterthought. It wasn't even said to Stiles; in fact if was said so quietly that Stiles figured Derek hadn't meant him to even hear it. "Why would anyone even take this job if they aren't going to take it seriously? Stupid idiot probably only took it because it was easy. Bet he's never actually worked for it or cared about it."

A hundred memories flew through Stiles head at once as he remembered exactly what he was doing in this office of his. Stiles snapped. "Look, asshole, just because my methods are different than yours doesn't make me wrong. I'm not stupid and I happen to know this town a whole hell of a lot better than you. I care more about this town and its people than you ever will and I will do everything in my power to protect them. And regardless of whatever conclusions you seem to have jumped to, I _earned _my job here with hard work. This job has never been easy for me and you don't have a damn clue what got me into law enforcement. You barely know me and yet you act like you know my entire life story. Use your superior detective skills to figure out that just because you don't like Beacon Hills doesn't make everyone in it an idiot and it doesn't make us your enemies." For a second, a flash of pain crossed Stiles' face and he added almost sadly, "You have no idea what I've been through."

Then his face returned to fury and Stiles turned on his heel and stormed out of their office. As he crossed the hallway and fumed into Scott and Isaac's office he pretended he didn't see their looks of pity. Damn werewolf hearing. Actually, now that Stiles thought about it, there was a good chance he had been yelling loud enough for even the humans in the precinct to hear. This was confirmed when Erica's face popped around the doorframe, "You okay, Batman?" She wondered.

Stiles sank into a free chair and sighed. "Yeah, I'm good. I just really wanted to get along with this guy. I didn't realize how hard it would be to keep secrets and still work well with him. Still, having a partner who doesn't like me is infinitely better than what happened last time." At the mention of his last-partner Stiles heard a sharp intake of breath. He winced internally; he hadn't meant to bring him up to Erica. She had only recently come back to work and clearly she was barely getting by. He looked up to apologize but she was gone.

Derek stared after Stiles' retreating back. He didn't know how to respond. He was also embarrassed to admit that Stiles was right. Derek knew practically nothing about the guy and had just sat around making assumptions. Assumptions that were laced with the bias he had towards a town he didn't want to be stuck in. Sure, the guy was clearly keeping secrets, but that didn't mean anything in regards to Stiles' ability to solve a case. Derek didn't have all the facts that Stiles did and for all he knew Stiles was completely reasonable in concluding that there was no connection in the cases. Beyond that, clearly he had hit a nerve when he said the guy had only joined the force because it was easy. It seemed like he had actually hurt Stiles with that assumption.

He was going to have to apologize to the idiot. Derek glared at Stiles' desk just because he could.


	4. Sticky Notes

Stiles left Scott's office when it was made abundantly clear that Scott was trying to cheer him up by talking about Allison. So as he blocked out Scott's inane chatter, he made up his mind to head down to the basement where the shooting range was. He couldn't think of a better way to let out his frustration at the entire situation.

He made the trek down the dark and rather dirty stairs and made his way into the shooting range. Just the smell of the room calmed him down a little. It smelled familiar; like he was somewhere uncomplicated where he didn't have to worry about the issues of his life. Here Stiles could bleach the image of the mutilated body from his mind. Here he wasn't concerned with werewolves or attacks, grumpy new partners or memories that still haunted him. Here Stiles was just Stiles. He was in his element and there was no gray area to navigate or mysteries to solve.

Grabbing ear plugs and goggles, Stiles pulled out his handgun and shut out the world. The anger and the indignation bled away as each shot rang out in the room. In their wake they left just confusion and sadness. After emptying three clips into the target, Stiles dropped the still hot gun on the counter and tore out his earplugs. He let his body slide down the wall until he was sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees as he stared into space and fought to hold back the hysterics that sought to claim him.

Anger was better he decided. Anger stopped him from thinking too hard about his life. It stopped him from recalling the things better left hidden. More importantly anger had helped him focus so that his life felt a little less out of control for a brief moment. Stiles let out a sound that was almost a laugh but sounded more like a sob when it occurred to him that maybe he should thank Derek for being such a dick. Who would have thought that some asshole strolling in acting like he was better than everyone would be such a good distraction?

* * *

Derek sat in the office for twenty minutes or so before he angrily stood up. He wasn't even sure anymore who he was angry at. Mostly himself. However when Derek got mad he exuded an aura of anger that seemed to be directed at everyone at once so sometimes even Derek got confused about who the anger was actually towards.

He stalked to the front of the station and practically demanded to know where Stiles was. Danny, who was apparently on desk duty that day, didn't even react to the hostility coming off Derek in waves. Instead he answered, "I don't know. Maybe if you hadn't insulted him you wouldn't have lost him. What I do know is that when you find him, you should try to actually get to know the guy. I don't care if you like Scott, Isaac, Jackson or the Sheriff; I don't even care if you like me, but Stiles deserves a partner who respects and likes him. If you can't deliver that then you and I are going to have some issues." With that, Danny turned his back on Derek and resumed the paperwork he had been doing when Derek stormed in.

Derek stood frozen for a moment. Danny's words had effectively cooled off the remaining anger Derek had harbored and now more than ever he wanted to apologize to Stiles. "Would you know where he was if I told you I was trying to apologize to him?"

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"And will it be a good apology that actually makes Stiles realize that you mean it?"

Derek was silent. He honestly didn't know. Instead of answering properly he said, "I'm not good at apologies."

Danny sighed, "He's probably in the basement. He goes down there to shoot when he gets stressed out."

Derek almost said thank you, but he wasn't good at thank you's either so instead he just nodded his acknowledgement and left.

He slowly walked down the steps, wondering as he went whose job it was to clean them, and opened the door to the shooting range. He stopped in the doorway when he saw that Stiles was indeed in the room. Derek stared for a moment as he tried to reconcile his image of Stiles as a young and slightly idiotic detective with the man he saw in front of him. Stiles stood with perfect form and even better aim. One shot after another rang out and each bullet found its target as Stiles expertly ejected the case and shot off another round.

For the first time, Derek truly considered that perhaps his new partner actually had some talent. Maybe, this annoying kid had more to him than just being the son of the sheriff. Derek found himself mesmerized by the precision and grace that Stiles moved with. There was only one word Derek could really use to sum it up. In that moment, Stiles was beautiful.

As the last echoes of gunfire faded, Derek started to approach Stiles, fully intending to give an apology. One that he suspected may be a whole lot more sincere than he had originally thought. Stiles' actions halted him though. Stiles hadn't noticed Derek and instead of heading towards the door he appeared to crumble against the wall. The strong powerful man from just seconds ago turned instantly into a broken looking one. His arms curled around his legs and his face was buried in his arms. Derek was at a loss; he had no idea if he should approach Stiles or let him be. When an anguished sound halfway between a sob and a laugh tore out of Stiles' throat Derek decided to quietly leave the boy in peace.

Derek quietly returned to his office. His mind was reeling with all these new images if Stiles. This almost stranger who had seemed so carefree and naïve was starting to change in Derek's mind. He resolved then that despite disliking Beacon Hills, he wouldn't hate its people. Stiles was a mystery in every sense of the word and Derek yearned to solve him. Derek _needed _to solve him. More importantly, Derek felt an inexplicable desire to never hear that broken sound come from Stiles' lips again. Instead he wanted to see the confidence and power that he had seen as Stiles peppered the target with bullets.

* * *

Stiles didn't come back upstairs for almost an hour. When he finally did Derek was gone. What Stiles found instead was a small yellow sticky note with the words, "I'm sorry. – Derek"

A small smile crept onto Stiles face and he pulled a blank sticky note out of his own desk. On it he wrote, "I forgive you. – Stiles" And he stuck the note on Derek's computer screen. After a brief second of thought, he decided to add a second note. Stiles recalled Derek accusing him of only joining the force because it was easy and Stiles wasn't the sort of person to just let a misconception stand. He wanted to correct Derek's view of him. "It was for my mom by the way. I joined the force after she died so that I could try to make sure no other child ever had to watch their mom get murdered. - Stiles"

What Stiles hadn't expected was for those two sticky notes to start something between Derek and him. When Stiles arrived at work the next day he had found another note, this time on his keyboard. On it was scrawled, "I may have judged you unfairly."

Stiles looked across the room at Derek where he sat hunched over his own desk. The amount of effort Derek put into trying to look like he had nothing to do with the note was almost amusing. In truth, it touched Stiles with a hint of sadness. He wondered what in Derek's life had made him unable to admit these sorts of things out loud. Stiles made the decision to respect the fact that Derek clearly didn't want to talk in person about anything so with sticky notes and silence they formed a strange friendship.

"Everyone makes mistakes. I'm sorry too for not telling you everything I know about the case. I get why you're frustrated at me for that. – Stiles"

"Does that mean if I asked again you would tell me more? – Derek"

"No. Now we have a new case to work on. I can finish off the old one. – Stiles" Stiles noticed the distinct frown on Derek's face when he read that note.

"Will you at least tell me if there have been any more attacks? – D"

"None. It's been quiet lately. – S"

"How are the people doing that got attacked? – D" Derek stared in confusion at Stiles as he read the note. Stiles looked crushed for a moment and then he had stood up abruptly saying he was going for an early lunch. Derek quickly jotted down a second note for Stiles to find.

"I'm sorry for whatever I said wrong. – D"

"No. Don't apologize. It's just that I knew a few of the people who got attacked. I knew the one who died. He was my partner. Boyd. He was a good man. – S" Until that note, Stiles hadn't realized that he was just like Derek with these notes. Both of them were using them to say the things they couldn't voice out loud.

"I'm sorry, Stiles. Losing people isn't easy. – D" Stiles audibly gasped when he read it. It was the first time Derek had used his name. For once he was 'Stiles,' instead of, 'Stilinski,' and it felt amazing to finally be just Stiles.

* * *

Stiles stared at his computer screen with displeasure. He had finally come across an answer to one of the many questions they had about the murder and it wasn't good. More specifically it wasn't one he could share with Derek. The mysterious way the man had been killed was apparently a three-fold death. Also known as a sacrifice. The sort that involved magic. Magic of course falling into the category of things that he couldn't talk to his partner about. At least he couldn't be completely open about it.

Stiles cleared his throat to get Derek's attention. "So, I've got something." Derek stared at him in what Stiles assumed was a signal to continue. "This murderer, I think they may have been going for a sacrifice. They may actually believe in that sort of thing."

"So we're dealing with a crazy person?"

"Most likely. Yeah." Well it wasn't a lie. The person probably was crazy. That didn't mean they weren't actually magic. Stiles made a mental note to talk to Deaton. Deaton knew about magic.

"Well at least it's a starting point. I was getting really sick of dead ends."

* * *

Jackson had come back a few days ago and Stiles was starting to notice that Derek acted strangely around him. Granted most people did because Jackson was kind of a jerk, but Derek was just being downright weird. He was practically stalking the guy through the building at times as if he was trying to catch him doing something. What he thought he would catch Jackson doing was a mystery.

Stiles was actually pretty proud of Jackson and the way he was handling his new werewolf powers. Even though he was constantly mad at people, he didn't seem to lose control much. There had been a few times that Stiles thought perhaps he'd seen a flash of yellow in Jackson's eyes or a slightly pointier tooth but for the most part he remained completely human. Stiles was almost positive that Derek hadn't noticed any of the wolf moments Jackson had.

* * *

Derek had noticed some strange things around Jackson. Twice he had been positive that his eyes changed color when he got mad. Once he had lifted a full filing cabinet when he thought no one was looking. Neither of these things was even close to normal. What was worse was that Stiles clearly knew what was happening. He had been standing right next to Jackson one of the times his eyes had changed and he hadn't even reacted.

Derek found himself quite enjoying the strange written friendship he and Stiles had struck up and he didn't want to ruin it by calling Stiles out on what was happening but he was getting tired of not knowing.

Before he left work he left a note that said, "Whatever is going on in this town, I promise I can handle it. I need you to trust me, Stiles. – D"

All he got back was, "I'm sorry, Derek. I can't. – S"


	5. Too Many Problems

Derek sighed heavily as he climbed into the patrol car next to Stiles. Stiles started the car and together the two headed off to another dead body. The call had at least come in during daylight hours this time so that was a bonus, but really could anything be considered good about a person losing their life? This new body brought the total to three murders in town. Stiles was still adamant that none of them had to do with the attacks near the woods. Derek found himself starting to believe Stiles; from what Stiles had shared with him about the attacks they seemed completely different from the murders. Granted, Stiles wouldn't share much. Derek felt like he was playing a game he didn't know the rules for and he had no idea how he was going to help his partner solve attacks that he knew next to nothing about. Stiles of course just kept telling him to forget about the attacks and focus on the murders instead.

The second body had been a college student home for the summer, no known connections with the first victim yet. This third body had already been identified as the captain of the swim team at the high school. Again, no connections had been made yet to either of the first two bodies. They pulled into the parking lot of the bank and got out, the silence heavy between them. The crime scene tape was already surrounding the bench outside the bank and Jackson was there talking to the person Derek assumed must have found the body.

Stiles visibly suppressed a shudder as they looked on the remains of the teenager. Another caved in skull paired with a wire cutting into the arteries on his neck and bruises standing out against the too pale skin of his throat. Derek had a crazy desire to shield Stiles from the sight as they neared but he shook it off. Stiles was already crouched down next to the body staring intently at it as if the body itself would rise up and tell them who killed him. A brief furrowing of Stiles brows told Derek that Stiles had seen something that piqued his interest.

Careful not to disturb any evidence, Stiles moved a bit closer to the corpse's hand. After staring for a moment he stood up abruptly and turned to Derek. "Purity ring on his hand."

Derek wasn't sure if he was supposed to understand that or not so he just kept staring at Stiles waiting for him to explain.

"Remember when we talked to the family of the first kid? We were trying to find out if he had any enemies and they said, 'No, he never really had anyone at all. He didn't have friends. He never even had a girlfriend.' I bet you he was a virgin too."

Stiles grinned at him as if this should make some sense to him. Slowly, Stiles realized that Derek wasn't getting what he was trying to say and an exasperated look crossed his face. "Derek, it's the first connection we've had in the case. The first and the third bodies were both virgins. It's a link. I bet you the second victim was too."

For a moment Derek considered that maybe Stiles was crazy. Then he stopped long enough to actually think about what Stiles was saying. "Stiles, you may be on to something. If we think about the fact that whoever is doing this seems to think they're enacting sacrifices then it could make complete sense that they would go after virgins. A lot of sacrificial ceremonies demanded virgins. This guy really is crazy."

Stiles beamed at him. "We finally have something." He exclaimed. "I was starting to really worry about this case. The guy leaves no evidence behind and we had no motive at all, now we finally have a starting point."

"We need to find out if the second victim really was a virgin."

* * *

Derek and Stiles sat in their office poring over the files containing everything they had found out about the second victim. "Cassidy Williams," Stiles read aloud, "19 years old and a freshman at University of California, Berkley campus. Parents reported that she was a star student with a full ride scholarship. Popular and liked by everyone. Had a long term girlfriend." Stiles' face fell when he got to that part. "So, not a virgin."

"Long term girlfriend, yes. Also long distance." Derek stated with what could almost count as a grin. "Stiles, her and her girlfriend met online and had never actually met in person. It's not conclusive evidence that she hadn't ever had sex, but it's a high possibility."

Stiles smiled and looked up at Derek. "So we finally have something?"

"I think so." It felt good to finally see even a tiny bit of progress in the case. Derek was tired of seeing bodies. Beacon Hills was supposed to be his vacation from the violence of New York. So far, it had contained an awful lot of violence all its own.

The phone rang then interrupting their small moment of triumph. Stiles answered. "Stilinski. Yes. No." Stiles face paled. "Another one? I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up with a shaky hand and stood up slowly. His face was turned down, looking at his desk as he took a deep breath. "Derek," he began, looking up at Derek's questioning face. "I have to go. I'll be back soon."

"What?" Derek's voice was loud and mad. He was not in the mood for more secrets. "Stiles, what's going on?"

Stiles flinched at the obvious anger and confusion in Derek's voice. "I'm sorry, Derek." He whispered. "I can't share this with you."

Derek stood up then, clenching his fists to ease the hurt that flared up in him. "Stiles, I'm your partner. I'm supposed to protect you and have your back. How can I do that if you won't let me?" Stiles didn't answer; instead he turned and walked towards the door without even a glance back to Derek. Derek knew it was useless to follow him, he had tried once before and Sheriff Stilinski had appeared out of nowhere to stall him long enough for Stiles to get out. Acknowledging the losing battle Derek controlled his temper and called out, "Stiles." Stiles paused but did not turn. "Be safe." Stiles nodded slightly and left.

* * *

Stiles walked out the door of the station and got into his car. As he shut the door he gave a brief nod to Scott and Isaac, they were headed out to the woods to track the scent of the rogue wolf from where it had attacked. Stiles took a moment to collect himself before shifting into drive and heading to the hospital. He arrived, flashed his badge, and entered the room of Emily Ramirez. "Miss Ramirez, I am Detective Stilinski. Would you be willing to answer a few questions for me about your attack?"

Emily was a pretty girl, long black hair and ebony skin framed her face. A long strip of white gauze taped across her cheek was the only outward sign of what she had been through but Stiles suspected more wounds lay underneath the hospital sheet. Emily looked at him with eyes that still held fear and her voice quivered as she answered him, "Yes. I can answer whatever you need me to."

Stiles smiled at her in a reassuring way. "Thank you. Can you tell me what you remember?"

Emily spoke quickly as if getting the words out would be easier if she said it fast. Like pulling off a Band-Aid. "Not much. I was out for a jog and I got tackled from behind. After that there was just a lot of pain. He must have had knives or something and he just kept cutting me. I screamed and I must have been close enough to other people that they heard me. I could hear someone else running towards us and I guess the guy must have heard them too because he was suddenly gone and then the next thing I remember I was in the ambulance."

Stiles nodded, "This may seem like an odd question, but did your attacker bite you at any point in the attack?"

"No. Why? Has that happened before? Does this guy go around biting people?" There was a note of panic to her voice now.

Hiding his sigh of relief, Stiles interrupted her, "What's important is that you survived and are safe now."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Can you tell me what direction your attacker went in?"

"Well I didn't see him leave, but it sounded like he climbed up into the trees and started jumping through them. I think he was heading north."

"Thank you for your time, Miss Ramirez. That's all the questions I have for now. You're safe here." Stiles gave one last encouraging smile and then left. The second he was back in his car he pulled out his phone and dialed his dad.

"This is Sheriff Stilinski."

"Dad, it's me."

"Stiles, what did she say?"

"She didn't get bit. We're okay on that front. But dad, she said the wolf went up into the trees after the attack. Scott and Isaac are probably tracking the wrong trail. They're tracking the path he took to get to the attack location, not the path he took to escape."

"Understood. Stiles, I will call them and tell them to try to trace the rogue through the trees. You report back to the station."

"All due respect Sir, I can't do that. The wolf was heading north which means he was continuing along the jogging path. Someone else could be being attacked right now. I can get there faster than Scott and Isaac can right now."

"Stiles…"

"You know I'm right. Don't give me special treatment just because I'm your son."

A silence followed on the other end then a heavy sigh. "Stiles, I want you to search for more victims along the path but do not go further into the woods. Scott and Isaac will be on their way to you. Don't do anything stupid. Remember, you don't have a partner to back you up right now."

"Understood."

Stiles screeched out of the parking lot with his lights and siren on; time was of the essence and the faster he could get to the woods the better. It was only about an eight minute drive and when he arrived Stiles threw himself from the cruiser without bothering to even shut the door behind him. His mind kept flashing pictures of Boyd's mangled body when he had found it. Stiles swore he wouldn't let that happen to anyone again. He tore down the jogging path, eyes raking both sides looking for any sign of struggle or blood. After about five minutes he reached the spot Emily had been found. Her blood was still pooled at the side of the path, finger nail marks dug into the dirt as Emily had tried to escape.

Stiles swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat and he kept going. Another five minutes passed before Stiles saw a movement off to his right. He pulled his gun quickly from is holster and aimed toward the indication of life. A brief glimpse of glowing blue eyes and then the wolf turned and ran. Stiles gave chase, heading straight into the woods. In his mind he tried to remember if his gun had wolfsbane bullets in it right now or regular ones. He couldn't recall if he had switched them or not.

The trees grew thicker around him as he ran and the light filtering through the tree tops got dimmer. Stiles stopped running, turning around in a circle with his gun still held out in front of him. He had lost sight of the wolf. His eyes strained in the poor light to catch some movement, a glimpse of fur or glowing eyes. He saw nothing.

Suddenly there was a sound behind him and he turned to find a very large werewolf bearing down on him. He squeezed the trigger twice before the wolf reached him. Then there was just the sickening thud as his body was forced to the ground and the burning pain as claws raked across his shoulder. As his body went into shock he thought, 'Guess they were regular old lead bullets.'

* * *

"Derek, stop pacing. Just go home." Danny's voice said.

Derek looked up at him with annoyance. "Would you be able to go home if Jackson was missing?"

"I'm sure Stiles is fine. He didn't go anywhere dangerous."

Derek rounded on the officer and with a deadly voice he growled, "You know where he got called to?"

Danny had the decency to look guilty. "Yeah. I guess I should have known that you wouldn't know."

"Tell me where he is."

"I can't do that. It's not my place to say. All I can tell you is that Stiles didn't go anywhere dangerous. He was just going to talk to a witness."

Derek almost grabbed the guy and shook him by the shoulders. "A witness to _what_?" He demanded instead. "Was there another murder? Another attack?"

"Just trust me when I say Stiles is safe."

Derek looked hard at Danny, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. Satisfied at last that Stiles was probably fine, Derek instead turned his anger towards Stiles. Stupid Stiles who kept lying to him about important things. Stiles who he had stayed late at work for because he was worried about him. Derek scrawled, "You're an idiot." on a sticky note, stuck it to Stiles' desk, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out of the precinct.

He arrived home faster than he should have and he realized belatedly that perhaps he had not followed the speed laws. Too late to do anything about it now. He stomped up the stairs to his front door and flung it open. He had a brief moment to wonder why the light was on in his front room before he was writhing on the floor as his body was pumped with 50,000 volts of electricity from the Taser he'd just been shot with. Through the pain he could vaguely hear a voice saying, "Welcome home, Der. I missed you."

Then he felt the merciful blackness of unconsciousness.

* * *

I'm sorry that I do terrible things to the characters we all love. I promise I will update again soon so you don't have to wait too long on this horrid double cliffhanger.

Review please :)


	6. Bloody and Broken

AN: Warning for torture in this chapter.

* * *

Stiles woke up with a strangled scream on his lips. He bolted straight off Deaton's table and was halfway to the door before he really took in his surroundings. Deaton was standing next to the table holding a bloody cloth, clearly having been in the middle of cleaning Stiles' wounds. His dad was in a chair against the wall and Scott was asleep in the chair next to him.

Still breathing heavily as he tried to calm his racing heart, Stiles started to notice the pain. Deaton walked cautiously over to him and gently directed him back to the examination table all while reassuring him that he was safe. Stiles obligingly hopped back up on the table and let Deaton resume cleaning and stitching the gouges running from his shoulder to the middle of his back.

"What happened?" He rasped to his dad.

"You were an idiot is what happened." His dad replied with a glare. "I gave you orders not to go further into the woods. You were just supposed to scan the area. What the hell were you thinking?" Stiles looked down at his feet trying to shove down the sudden feelings of guilt. "You're lucky I called Scott and Isaac the instant I got off the phone with you. If they had gotten there just a few seconds later you would either be dead or a werewolf right now. How could you be so irresponsible?"

Quietly Stiles answered, "I just got thinking about Boyd and I wanted so badly to catch the guy who did it."

Sheriff Stilinski let out a sigh and the anger seemed to leave him in an instant. "I know son. I know." After a few minutes of tension filled silence the sheriff spoke again. "Am I going to have to take you off this case, Stiles? You're the best I've got and you know more about werewolves than probably any other person under my command but if you can't handle this you need to let me know."

Stiles finally met his dad's eyes and for a second there was panic and fear burning in him at the thought of being taken off the case. Then he sat up straighter and informed his father confidently, "No sir, I can handle this. I won't let my emotions take over like that again."

"Good. I expect you back at work tomorrow. I'll make sure you and Derek are on desk duty so you don't have to worry about your injury. Can't have you take the day off to rest or Derek might suspect something."

"Dad…About Derek…He already suspects something. He has absolutely no idea what, but it's not like I can hide from him the fact that he's missing out on some crucial information."

"Just as long as he doesn't ever connect the dots we'll be fine. I've lost enough good men to this supernatural crap I don't want to put more in danger."

Stiles nodded.

"You're all done." noted Deaton's voice from behind him. "You need to be careful for the next few days with it so you don't pull out the stitched but it will heal just fine."

Hopping back off the vet's table Stiles gingerly moved his shoulder a little, testing the pain and stiffness of it. His dad held a shirt out to him and he shrugged it on as carefully as he could. Stiles turned to Deaton, "Thanks. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Maybe you'd actually go to a hospital for once when you need it instead of asking a vet for medical help on humans." Deaton replied with a pointed look.

Stiles grinned sheepishly at him, "I'm sorry. I know this isn't your area. But werewolf attacks aren't exactly hospital territory either."

"You're right, but someday you're going to get hurt badly enough that you need a real doctor."

"And on that day I will drag my ass to the hospital."

Deaton smiled and they exchanged a brief hug. Stiles looked at Scott who was still asleep in the chair against the wall. He made a move to go wake Scott up but Deaton shook his head. "Leave him. He's pretty worn out. I'll bring him a blanket and let him sleep here."

The sheriff stood up then and gestured Stiles out the door. Together they drove home to get what sleep they could before work.

* * *

Derek woke up to the sound of pacing feet in front of him. He forced himself not to make any movement that would indicate he was awake yet. Instead he focused on analyzing his condition. He was sitting in what had to be the most uncomfortably hard chair in the world. His hands were tied together behind his back; his shoulders ached from the strain of being held in the unnatural position for far too long. His legs were tied down firmly to the chairs legs so he couldn't move them an inch. Every muscle in his body felt sore from the electrical current that had pounded through him but he couldn't feel any other injuries except the rope burn around his wrists.

Without even lifting his head to confirm his suspicions, Derek spat out the name, "Kate."

"Oh good, you're awake!"

Definitely Kate. Derek fought the urge to snarl at her. Instead he lifted his head and met her gaze with a glare that communicated all his hatred for her. Her eyes danced with glee and she stopped her pacing so she could kneel down in front of him, closer to his eye level.

"And how is poor Derek feeling?" She inquired with a smirk. Kate leaned closer to him and brought her mouth right up against his ear. Derek strained to put some distance between them but the best he could do was tilt his head away from hers. This did little good when she just moved right along with him. "You know I was surprised when you ran away." She whispered in his ear.

Derek did snarl at her then. "I didn't run."

Kate pulled back, a teasing smile on her lips. "No? Well whatever you call it, I certainly didn't expect you to leave New York. You should have known I'd come after you." Kate stood up again, backing up a few paces so she could look around the house. "This is a nice place you found here. Beacon Hills." She pronounced the town's name like it was a particularly ugly bug on her shoe. "I didn't like having to chase you across the entire country, Derek. It was a bit of a hassle." Her face dropped into a pout at the words and Derek noticed a gleam of anger behind the playful tone.

"I didn't exactly choose the place with the intention of you following." He ground out through clenched teeth.

"Well, that was an oversight on your part. It should have been obvious really. When you found me covered in their blood you rejected me. I don't take rejection well, Derek. I was pretty certain I had made myself clear when I told you that if I couldn't have you, no one could. I'm here to ensure that."

Kate drew near him again and, just in time to brace for the pain, Derek saw the glint of a dagger in her hand. She dragged it across his chest, cutting deep into the muscle and tissue. Derek bit back a cry as he tried desperately to recoil from the sharpness of the blade. The chair left no room to escape though and Kate only laughed at his attempts.

"Squirming will only make it worse, Der." She cheerfully told him as she drew another bloody line across his abdomen. Then her attention switched to his face and she tore the dagger along his cheek, a shallower cut this time but still painful. "So tell me, Derek." She hissed. "Is there anyone in this shit town that I should know about? Because if I need to kill more people I will. I want it completely understood that you belong to me."

For a baffling moment Derek thought about Stiles' laugh and he felt a deep protective urge well up inside him at the thought of Kate anywhere near the man. Derek didn't show any of it on his face, certain that Kate really would kill anyone he dared mention. Instead he remained silent and continued to glare at her. She dropped the knife beside her with a small grin.

"No matter. I don't intend to keep you alive long anyway so it's not like there's much chance of you returning to anyone out in Beacon Hills." Kate spoke as she slowly wandered to the back of Derek's chair. She ran her hand through his hair in an almost caress and she bent her head to drop a brief kiss on his neck before she viciously tore his left arm out of its socket. Derek screamed.

* * *

Stiles glanced at his watch again and let out a frustrated groan. Front desk was a boring enough job on a regular day, it was even worse when Derek hadn't shown up. Hearing his groan, Danny emerged from his office and approached Stiles.

"He's still not here, huh?" Danny asked.

"Not even a phone call to say he's sick." Stiles answered.

"Weird. With how worried he was about you yesterday I figured he'd be here extra early this morning and instead he isn't here at all."

A look of shock crossed Stiles' face as he turned to Danny, "He was worried about me?"

Danny gave him a knowing smile. "Yeah. Took me forever to convince the guy that you were safe and he needed to get home." Danny's look changed to a slightly accusing one as he added, "Of course I found out later you weren't actually safe."

Stiles shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unconsciously reaching to his shoulder, and he shot Danny an apologetic look. Meanwhile the gears started turning in his head. Derek hadn't missed a single day of work in the month since he arrived. He had even worked overtime without complaint. Missing work at all was out of character, even more so if he had really been worried about Stiles.

Stiles shot to his feet, ignoring the flash of pain across his back, and he strode to his dad's office leaving Danny behind gaping at him in confusion.

"Dad, something's wrong with Derek."

The sheriff didn't even look up. "I'm sure he's fine, Stiles. Just because he didn't make it in to work doesn't mean a disaster happened." When the sheriff did look up and saw the panic in his son's eyes he gently said, "Stiles, I know you've been through a lot, but you can't start seeing monsters around every corner. Beacon Hills has more than its share of issues but Derek isn't involved in any of them. He's fine."

For a few seconds Stiles pondered his dad's words. Maybe he was just overreacting because of all the horrid things he had seen. Maybe Derek had just forgotten to call, or he had overslept, or any other completely mundane reason. The more he pondered it though the more certain he became that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

To his dad he said, "Yeah. You're right." Then he stalked back out of the room. He found Danny still at the front desk, waiting to find out what was going on. "Danny, my back is hurting and Derek isn't here to get suspicious of me taking a day off, so could you take over the desk for me so I can leave?"

Danny looked like he wanted to ask a question but Stiles didn't give him the chance. He was already out the door and on his way to his car.

Derek had mentioned many times his efforts to fix up the old house in the woods. Stiles remembered people telling ghost stories about that house when he was growing up so he knew exactly where it was. Shifting the car into drive, Stiles headed to Derek's place hoping the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach was wrong.

* * *

Derek panted heavily, trying to catch his breath before Kate could get another scream out of him. She was practically glowing with pleasure as she circled him like a hawk, deciding the next place she wanted to strike. She had stabbed her dagger into his thigh, broke three fingers, carved her name into his bicep with a pocketknife, and peppered his body with bites, scratches, cuts, bruises, and burns.

Mingled with the pain she would drag him into kisses that he didn't have the strength to fight. She would pause to lick his neck or suck a hickey into his skin. She would run her hands along his chest, smiling as her nails caught on the bloody gashes making him flinch and groan in pain.

Then she would grab her Taser again and press it against him until he saw black spots dancing across his vision. She never let him go unconscious though. She would grab his head and force him to look her in the eyes as she commanded him to stay awake.

She would taunt him when she got tired of torture. Telling him stories of his family and how good their screams had been, "Not like yours though." She had added, "Your screams are so, so much better."

She painted a picture for him with words. Every detail of how she had cut up his little sister, stabbed his mother, broken every bone in his father's body, and then set fire to the house while they were still inside barely clinging onto life.

Her words dragged tears out of him that he thought had all been used up back in New York. Her laughter at her deeds fueled a deeper anger and over and over Derek struggled to break free of his restraints. He could feel the blood running down the wrist of his good arm as the ropes just dug into his skin even more but he kept fighting.

He lost track of time. Maybe it had been hours. It felt more like it had been days. What he did know was that Kate showed no sign of stopping.

* * *

Some instinct told Stiles that he shouldn't drive straight up to the house. He parked half a mile away and walked the rest the way up to the building. He noted Derek's car still sitting in the yard and he couldn't decide if that was a good sign or a bad one.

His question was answered when he heard an agonized scream. Keeping control of his emotions Stiles focused on his training. He clicked on his radio and whispered, "I need back up at Detective Hale's house. Now. Derek is confirmed in trouble."

A brief moment of silence followed and then he heard the answering, "Back-up is on its way. Hold your position." Thankfully his dad was whispering too, seeming to have gotten the idea that now was not a good time for loud voices.

Stiles crept closer to the house, trying to find a window with some sort of view of Derek. When another scream ripped through the house Stiles started to move faster. When he finally did get close enough to see Derek he almost wished he hadn't. A blond woman stood over him but Stiles' eyes were drawn to Derek. He hung limp in the chair he was attached to, a pool of blood lay under him and more blood was dripping down into it. It seemed every inch of him was either bleeding or bruised and Stiles could see at least two places where he had been stabbed. The one in his thigh still had the knife sticking out.

A movement from the woman caught his attention and he noticed the lighter in her hand. He watched with horror as she pressed the flame against Derek's shoulder and the skin there quickly started to redden and burn. Derek's whole body stiffened and another scream tore out of his mouth. The lighter was moved away from the scorched skin and the scream died out leaving Derek gasping to get air back in his lungs. Stiles was frozen in place, trying desperately to figure out a plan.

Stiles watched as Derek's head lifted ever so slowly, glaring at the woman in front of him. It was a good thing she was busy choosing her next weapon and not looking at Derek because he didn't hide the look of shock that crossed his face when he saw Stiles outside his window looking ready to come in and murder someone.

With what looked like a ton of effort, Derek mouthed the words, "Get out of here." to Stiles.

Shaking his head firmly, Stiles ducked out of sight of the window and crept as quietly as he could back to the front door, spurred on by the renewed sound of Derek being tortured.

* * *

AN: What will Stiles do to save Derek? You'll find out soon :) Hope you like this chapter.


	7. Empty Gun

Derek's tortured screams flooded Stiles with a fear he hadn't felt since the night his mother died. They ripped through his mind leaving behind a throbbing ache of terror and an almost physical pain. He had to keep reminding himself to breathe because every time Derek's cries tore out of him Stiles found himself holding his breath in as he desperately hoped that whatever caused the scream was not fatal. He was at a weird point where every scream was both a blessing and a curse. It told him that Derek was still alive, still able to be saved, but it also told him Derek was slowly becoming more and more damaged at the hands of whoever that woman was.

Stiles moved as quickly as he could without making noise. Easing open the front door and sliding through it the moment it was wide enough to fit his body. He didn't bother closing the door; he just crept cautiously down the hallway following the horrid sounds. Almost worse than the screams was the evident laughter. Stiles reached the edge of the door and while still out of sight he paused for a moment to draw his gun and double check that he had bullets in it. To his dismay, there weren't any. He only remembered squeezing off two shots at the werewolf the other night but the hollow chamber of his gun told him that he had fired more times in his blind panic than he thought. He holstered the weapon and cursed himself for not refilling it the instant he had arrived at work that morning.

With no bullets and no back-up, Stiles knew it would be stupid to attempt a rescue. He wanted to smash his head against the wall in frustration as Derek's voice echoed around him. Stiles curled his hand into a fist, digging the nails into the tender flesh of his palm as he racked his mind for options. If he went in now, unarmed and still injured, he had no idea if he would do any good. Stiles was good at fighting bare handed if he needed to but he had no idea who the woman was and for all he knew she was just as well trained as he was with the added benefit of not having werewolf injuries. On the other hand if Stiles didn't take the chance now, if he waited for the backup he knew was coming, Derek might not make it.

Stiles had no idea how life threatening Derek's injuries were. He also had no idea what kind of plan the woman had and every second he waited could be the one that she decided she was done with her game and ready to just kill Derek. That thought solidified his choice. Which to be honest, was always what he would have chosen and he knew it. There was never even a chance that he would wait patiently for others to arrive all while listening to the soundtrack of his partner's anguished yells.

Pulling out the useless gun again he glared down at it, flicked off the safety, and rounded the doorframe with the barrel pointed directly at the madly grinning woman currently peeling a strip of flesh off Derek's shoulder. Stiles steeled his features, doing his best not to give her any reason to doubt the threat of the gun. He may know it was empty but she didn't and if he played his cards right she wouldn't ever have to know. Stiles took pride in the fact that his hands didn't shake at all as he stood tall and steady glaring the woman down. Through clenched teeth he hissed out, "Beacon Hills Police, drop the knife."

She rounded on him, maniac smile still plastered on her face but her hand pulled away from Derek and that was at least a start. Derek had his back to Stiles but it was still obvious when he reacted to Stiles' voice. His body tensed and then with newfound energy he struggled harder than ever to get loose.

The woman looked Stiles up and down before she took a step away from Derek and towards Stiles, knife still clutched in her fingers. Stiles' hands tightened on his gun but he remained steady. "I said drop the knife."

"Stiles get the hell out of here before she hurts you." Derek yelled, turning his head as much as he could, trying to see what was going on behind him.

"I'm not leaving here without you, Derek."

"So," the woman drawled, "your name is Stiles? What exactly are you doing here, Stiles?"

"I won't ask you again, drop the knife."

A laugh that could only be described as a cackle burst forth from her lips. "Fine. I'll drop the knife. I'll even back up nicely against the corner so you can get to Derek. However, first I want you to answer my question. Why are you here?"

"I'm saving my partner. Now drop the damn knife."

Surprisingly, she complied. The knife clattered to the ground and she backed up slowly until she stood against the wall. Stiles approached her slowly, gun still held on her with one hand while he reached for handcuffs with his other. Her smile didn't dim and she didn't fight him at all as he fit one cuff around her wrist and attached the other to the radiator. Stiles thanked God for Derek living in an old house that still had a radiator otherwise he would have had no idea what to cuff her to.

When he was confident that she was secure, Stiles holstered his gun and raced to Derek's side taking in the damage as his trembling hands struggled to undo the knots in his binding. They were tied well and the blood that had dripped across them made the rope slick and harder to grasp. Most of the wounds looked superficial which Stiles was thankful for. They had been meant to cause pain, not death. Derek groaned in pain as Stiles' movements jostled his body and Stiles hesitated. He sat back and reevaluated the best way to get Derek free with minimal pain finally deciding to retrieve the fallen knife and just cut the bonds.

Derek still grimaced in pain as the knife dragged across the ropes but it was far better than when Stiles had been pulling on the knots. Stiles finished freeing Derek's hands from behind his back before moving on to the rope tying his legs to the chair. Derek slowly flexed the fingers when he felt the blood flow return. He gingerly brought his hands in front of him, his shoulders protesting the shift, and he rested a hand on Stiles'. Stiles looked up into Derek's eyes and finally felt something in him relax. The adrenaline flowed out of him and while Derek was certainly not in good shape, he was alive.

"Thank you, Stiles." Derek whispered, voice hoarse and scratchy.

Stiles nodded, fighting back tears at the sudden relief flooding his body. He offered a small smile, "Well I couldn't let you die. Then I wouldn't have anybody to help me with paperwork." His tone was joking but his eyes conveyed to Derek how truly happy he was to have arrived in time. Stiles was about to return to freeing Derek when he felt the older man's good arm wrap around him pulling him into an awkward hug. Awkward because Derek was still tied to the chair and awkward because both of them were doing their best not to touch any of Derek's wounds but despite that, it was the best feeling Stiles could think of. Derek just buried his face into Stiles' neck, not caring that he was getting blood all over Stiles and not caring that Stiles arms returning the hold were brushing against burns and cuts along his sides; all Derek cared about was that this boy, this man, had saved him. His partner, who had started as annoyance and later become a friend, was the one who had raced in to rescue Derek. In that moment Derek knew that Stiles was so much more than met the eye. He was brave and loyal on top of his humor and kindness. In that moment Derek could think of no one he would rather cling to in the aftermath of Kate.

As they pulled apart, Derek noticed Stiles finch slightly when his hand came in contact with Stiles' shoulder. Briefly there was a question about it in his mind but suddenly it didn't matter at all as he noticed Kate slinking towards them. He didn't even have time to warn Stiles before Kate was tackling him from the side, throwing him to the ground. The cry Stiles let out when his back impacted the floor seemed disproportionate to the force he had fallen with. It shouldn't have hurt as badly as it sounded like it had. Derek didn't waste breath shouting to Stiles, he leaned forward and started doing his best, with fingers that were still partially numb and only one working arm, to undo the knots still holding his legs to the chair.

The initial shock of hitting the hard floor with fresh werewolf scratches was enough to keep Stiles on the ground long enough for Kate to grab her knife out of his hand and straddle him. By the time Stiles had pulled himself back from the fog of pain the knife was to his throat and he stilled.

"Stiles." She dragged his name out like it was a curse. "You should really check a girl for lock picks before you leave her cuffed to something. Nice to meet you by the way, my name is Kate."

"That's really nice, but could you get the hell of me?" Stiles never was one for filtering his words through his brain so having a knife to him really didn't do much to change that.

"No. I think I'm good here. You see, I have this problem you may be able to help with. Derek hugged you. For me, that's not okay. You see, he's mine. No one else gets to have him. I can't have you swooping in to save him because then he may start to think that he can escape from me." There was an insane glint in her eye and her voice was disturbingly cheerful. "I also can't have you thinking you get to be a part of his life because you really, really can't be. So I'm thinking I kill you and resume what I was here for. Does that sound good?"

"It sounds like you're a possessive bitch. You're going to kill me because he hugged me? Really?" The knife pressed down a little harder and Stiles reminded himself again that his mouth really had to learn to shut.

"Yes. I really am going to kill you for hugging him. I've done much worse for Derek. I mean killing one guy is way better than killing Derek's whole family right?"

Stiles' eyes widened in horror. "What?" He gasped out.

Her eyes sparkled, "Didn't he ever tell you why he came to Beacon hills in the first place?"

Stiles found his eyes flicking over to Derek who was still only about halfway done untying his legs. As if sensing Stiles looking at him, Derek looked up and stared back at Stiles. A message passed wordlessly between them that they were going to get out of this mess somehow. Derek returned to his desperate work and Stiles tried to ignore how worried Derek had looked.

Kate shifted slightly above him and it gave Stiles exactly what he needed, access to his gun. Being as slow as possible he curled his fingers around it and drew it out of the holster. In one quick movement he had it pressed to Kate's temple and he repeated his words from earlier "Drop the knife."

The brief hesitation from Kate was enough for Stiles to knock the knife from her hand himself. Her face transformed in fury and she retaliated by grabbing onto his arm and wrenching it until he dropped his gun. Both unarmed, there was a mad scramble for weapons and moments later Stiles and Kate were both back on their feet, breathing heavily, Kate pointing Stiles' gun at his head while Stiles held her knife.

With a wicked smile, Kate cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. Derek yelled his name. Stiles wasn't sure which was better, the look of horror on Kate's face when she realized the gun was empty or the look of relief on Derek's face when he realized the same thing.

Kate dropped the gun to the floor and instead ran empty handed at Stiles. He dodged the attack and as her momentum pulled her past him he brought the hilt of the knife down hard on her skull. Her body slumped to the floor and Stiles followed soon after as exhaustion collided full force with his body. A minute later Derek was beside him, asking if he was okay and making certain Kate was out cold. When he has confirmed both of those things, he finally allowed his own body to give in to the darkness that had been curling around his vision for a while.

After another minute, Jackson and Danny burst through the door followed closely by the sheriff. Stiles had Derek's head in his lap and he was absently running his fingers through Derek's hair in a gesture of comfort while his other hand pressed against the worst of Derek's still bleeding wounds. Beside them lay a woman and Jackson had to control his wolf from ripping her apart when he saw the state of Derek. Derek and Jackson may not be close, or even friends, but Derek was close to Stiles and that was enough for Jackson. A hand from Danny helped calm him down and the two of them carried the woman to the back of their squad car.

Sheriff Stilinski approached his son, startling Stiles out of the daze he had been in. He placed a reassuring hand on Stiles' shoulder and asked if he could help get Derek to a car. Stiles nodded and together they lifted Derek up and got him out of the house, into a car, and to the hospital.


	8. Starting to Heal

AN: Sorry it took me so long to write this. I was finishing up summer quarter so I had finals going on and I was working ten hour days on top of that. Now I'm back to normal work days and I'm not taking fall classes so chapters will be back to once a week, possibly sooner.

* * *

Everything hurt. The smell of antiseptic surrounded him and absolutely everything hurt. With effort Derek managed to crack his eyes open, wincing at the sudden flood of light across his vision. The white walls of a hospital glared back at him as the steady beat of a heart monitor sounded to his right. There was another sound in the room, slightly softer and to his left. Derek strained to turn his head to look for the cause and saw, slumped in a rather uncomfortable plastic chair and snoring quietly, Stiles.

As Derek looked at the sleeping Stiles he noticed a few things. He saw the dark lines under his eyes that reflected a lack of sleep, he saw the blood still clinging to his clothes – Derek's blood no doubt – and he saw the small spattering of faint bruises along the man's pale arms. Bruises Derek suspected came from his impact with the floor. Sitting in the stiff chair of the hospital it was hard to see the strong confidence that Stiles had taken Kate down with. No, now he just looked worn out and too fragile for Derek's liking. Bordering on broken.

Derek was about to drift back to sleep when a nurse came bustling in to check on him. Stiles jerked awake at the noise and his eyes met Derek's briefly before falling to look at the floor. Derek was confused by the brief flash of guilt he saw in them. Stiles stood up stiffly and silently left the room so he couldn't get in the nurse's way.

The nurse was glad to see Derek awake and as she checked his bandages she gave him a rundown of his condition. "You have multiple lacerations, mostly on your torso and arms. Four of them required stitches and the rest have simply been bandaged. Your left arm was dislocated; we have fixed that and given you a sling to help minimize movement. It will be sore for quite a while. You got stabbed in your thigh and another in your side that was, thankfully, not near any organs. Those will both be sore for a while too. We set the three broken fingers and we treated the burns as well. All in all, you're pretty banged up but it will all heal. You'll be sore for a long time and it will be a while before you can return to active duty but you should at least be able to get out of the hospital within a day or two. By the end of the week you'll be able to return to work in a desk-job capacity."

"Thank you." Derek managed to get out. His throat still felt raw and his voice was gravelly and quiet from overuse. Screaming in agony did that to you.

The nurse gave a soft smile, "Don't thank me. Thank your partner. From what I hear he's the one that got you out of there. He hasn't left the hospital since you got here and he hasn't' left the room from the moment we allowed visitors. Most the Sheriff's Office has been here on and off all day but Detective Stilinski hasn't left once."

After a few more checks, the nurse made her way back out of the room and Stiles' head popped into view as he asked, "Is it alright if I come in?" He got a nod from Derek before fully entering the room. He resumed his sitting position in the uncomfortable chair and took a deep breath. Suddenly words were spilling out of his mouth in a rush, "I should have been there sooner." He blurted. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he locked eyes with Derek. The surprise on Derek's face was obvious and he opened his mouth to respond but Stiles didn't give him the chance. "No, don't argue it. I knew you wouldn't miss work. I knew. Why would you miss work? You're like the most work oriented guy on the force. Any detective worth anything would have realized instantly that something was wrong. It took me until after lunch to start worrying. I'm your partner and I let you spend hours…" Stiles voice caught in his throat and he fought to get the next words out without breaking down, "…being tortured …because I was busy being mad at you for skipping out on desk duty day." His hands clenched into fists and his next words came out almost in a yell. "You could have died while I sat around complaining to Jackson about you!"

"I would be dead now if it weren't for you." Derek softly stated. Stiles recoiled at the words and it seemed for a moment that he would argue. He wanted nothing more than to take the blame for Derek's pain. Derek refused to let him. "What Kate did isn't your fault and the fact that you showed up at all is more than I expected. I was convinced I was going to die there because no one would come to check on me until too late." Derek made sure Stiles was looking him in the eye before he finished, "Stiles, you saved my life. Thank you. You are a good detective and an even better partner; I would never want anyone else at my back." A sudden thought occurred to Derek as he remembered part of the rescue, "Are you alright? Back at the house, I remember you flinching when I touched your back."

Stiles looked panicked for a moment and then he laughed as he replied, "Yeah, just got a bruise when Kate tackled me. No big deal. I've had bruises before, they're not an issue. I did get tackled and pinned by a girl so that kinda stole some of my masculinity for a bit but then I remembered that Erica and Allison can both beat the shit out of me so being beaten by Kate's not really that unusual." He flailed his arms as he talked as if to prove that he was completely fine but Derek saw the slight wince when his shoulder moved too much.

"Funny," Derek mused aloud, "I could have sworn that I touched your back when I hugged you. Which was _before_ Kate knocked you to the ground."

Stiles' laugh was high pitched and borderline hysteric, "Nope, but with all the damage you took it's no wonder you don't remember clearly how everything happened. Anyway, a little bruise is nothing, don't worry about me. You have a hell of a lot more problems than I do. Hurry and heal so you can come back to work. Even Jackson's worried about you and for him that is a big deal. Mostly though it's freaking me out seeing Jackson with feelings so hurry up and come back so he can resume his better-than-everyone attitude." Once Stiles started rambling he could go on for days. He figured the longer he talked the farther Derek's mind would get from asking about his injury.

Derek fell asleep to the sounds of Stiles updating him on what had happened at the station in the day and a half he had been gone. It was amazing really how many words Stiles could find to describe the fact that absolutely nothing had happened.

* * *

"It's not for me, Deaton. It's for Derek. Derek got hurt really bad and he won't heal as quickly as the wolves so I wanted you to whip something up for him. Please."

Deaton gave a long suffering sigh, "Stiles, why are you willing to use magic to help heal Derek – which could risk exposing magic to him – but you refuse to let me even _try_ to help you with your own wound?"

"Because he needs it more than I do; my injury is healing fine and it doesn't affect my work or anything. I can get over it completely on my own. I'm fine. Totally fine. I'm not turning into a werewolf which is awesome. Not that being a werewolf is bad. Some of my best friends are werewolves. You already know that." He was getting off topic so he steered himself back to the point, "Besides, I know you can find a way to help Derek without making magic too obvious. I just want to make it a little easier on him." His voice got quieter and his eyes dulled as he swallowed past a lump in his throat. "You should have seen him, Deaton. That Kate bitch is certifiably insane. I've seen horrible things because of all the supernatural shit that goes down in this town but I've never seen anything as bad as what she did to him. What she did was entirely for the fun of it. If I hadn't gotten there she probably would have eventually ripped out his intestines just to show him what they looked like. Then she would tear his heart out in the most literal sense. The way she played with him… tortured him…" Stiles took a steadying breath, "I'm already going to hear his screams in my head for the rest of my life; I would like to at least remove the physical reminders of how he looked as she stood over him. I can't spend the next few months watching him cringe every time he moves the wrong way or pushes himself too hard. I won't do it. I need to fix him as quickly as possible without him getting suspicious."

Crossing the room, Deaton pulled a book off his shelf and started flipping through it. As he searched for the right page he talked, "If I agree to this will you let me give you something to help with your scratches?"

Stiles flapped his hand in the air in a gesture of exasperation, "Fine, fine. Just help me get Derek whole again. Right now he looks half dead. The last thing I want is another dead partner."

The flipping pages paused and Deaton looked up at Stiles. "You know that what happened to Derek isn't your fault right?" Stiles couldn't meet Deaton's eyes. "Stiles, he isn't Boyd. Kate wasn't a supernatural creature she was just a regular, garden variety, criminal. Helping Derek is fine and I will find a way to do it but you need to understand that this is not a repeat of Boyd's death. Don't start feeling responsible. You couldn't have saved Boyd just like you couldn't have gotten to Derek any sooner so stop feeling guilty." Deaton gingerly put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "You are far too young to carry so much weight on your shoulders, Stiles. Stop doubting yourself whenever something goes wrong."

Stiles just shrugged and refused to answer.

* * *

Monday rolled around and Derek dragged himself out of bed as enthusiastically as he could. His body ached all over still but he was dying of boredom sitting around the house so he was more than happy to go to work even though it meant sitting at a desk. He glared at the sling he had to wear, and then he grudgingly put it on before heading to the kitchen to pour a bowl of cereal. Just as he was finishing he heard the doorbell. More specifically he heard the doorbell at least eight times. He smiled to himself as he went to answer the door knowing full well that it had to be Stiles on the other side.

"Morning!" Stiles grinned brightly at him.

"How can you be so cheerful in the mornings?" Derek grumbled as he turned to grab his jacket. Stiles had insisted on driving Derek to work until his leg was feeling completely normal again. Derek would never admit it but he was secretly glad.

Before they made it to the car, Stiles shoved a thermos at him with a smile and stated, "Here! I made you some tea. It's an old family recipe that's supposed to promote healing. I figured you could use it. Because you have a lot of healing to do." He looked so proud as he offered the tea that Derek couldn't find it in his heart to refuse it. Grabbing the tea from Stiles he took a tentative sip, surprised at how good it was. He felt it flood him with warmth and he swore if he didn't know better he would have thought his entire body ached a little less.

* * *

Despite the mind numbing dullness of a day spent at the front desk, Derek reveled in being able to occupy his time with something. It felt good to be doing something again and he loved every second of it. He would be lying if he tried to deny that a good part of his enjoyment was due to the man sitting next to him.

Throughout the day a flurry of sticky notes had found their way from one side of the desk to the other as the two laughed their way through an otherwise boring day.

"How are you feeling? – S"

"Like I got hit by a truck. – D"

"Actually that sounds like a better alternative to the real story. – S"

"You're right. Maybe if you hit me with your stupid Jeep I would feel better. –D"

"Hey! The Jeep is a wonderful thing. Don't insult her. Also, I'd never hit you with her. I wouldn't want your thick skull to damage her. –S"

"How would you be able to tell? It's already full of dents. –D"

"True. And each dent tells a wonderful story. That doesn't mean I want more. –S"

"A story? How can a dent tell a story? –D"

"Well there's the time I ran into a tree because Scott and Allison were making out in the back and I was too busy telling them to stop to notice the tree. –S"

"A worthy reason to dent your car. No one wants to be near that kind of horror. –D"

"There was also the time I was trying to show Isaac that I knew how to fix my own car and I ended up accidentally tearing a piece out of it and promptly dropping said piece onto the hood. –S"

"I concede. You clearly _can_ have good stories behind dents. –D"

"Speaking of good stories, what do you think the story is behind that guy's hair? –S"

Derek tried his best to inconspicuously look up and find the guy Stiles was talking about. When he saw it he had to choke back his laugh and he pulled another sticky note to him as he scrawled, "My best guess is he took a weed whacker to it. –D"

Stiles grinned to himself and jotted down an answer.

Hours later they were both startled when Scott slapped a sticky note down in front of both of them. "If you two are done flirting for now, do you want to work-out with me? –Scott" When they read it they both burst out into fresh laughter and Stiles' cheeks flared a lovely red as Derek ducked his head in mock embarrassment.

Finally getting control of himself, Stiles gasped for air as he nodded to Scott and said, "Yeah. I'll go with you. It's been awhile since I worked out. You in, Derek?"

"I won't be able to work out with you," Derek replied gesturing to his body which was in no shape to exercise, "but I'll go with. Beats sitting around at my house."

They traipsed to the back of the precinct where the lockers and gym were; Scott and Stiles grabbed their work-out clothes from their lockers while Derek sat and waited for them. Stiles eased his button-up off to switch to a T-shirt and remembered too late exactly what was under his shirt. The sharp intake of breath from Derek's direction was the only proof he needed that Derek had seen the ugly, still healing, marks across his back.

* * *

AN: Next chapter Derek and Stiles get in a fight. Look forward to it :)


	9. Secrets

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend that this wasn't happening. The light pressure of warm fingers pressed against his back did little to help him believe that he was somehow dreaming.

Scott fidgeted for a moment, looking between his two friends awkwardly, before he cleared his throat and announced, "I'm just gonna go on ahead. I'll meet you guys in there."

Stiles eyes flew open at his words and even Scott couldn't miss the flash of betrayal in them as he ducked out of the room.

Derek spoke just as Stiles was starting to wonder if there was anything worse than the thick silence hanging over them. "Stiles, this… It's not…" Derek took a deep breath, "Stiles what happened? Don't try to pass this off as Kate's doing."

And yeah, Stiles was certain now that there was in fact something worse than the silence. It was the soft and broken tone that Derek spoke in. The one that told him he had been caught in a lie and it had very definitely hurt Derek. Worse was the knowledge that he couldn't ease Derek's pain. He was only going to make it worse.

"Well… You know that _thing_? The one we don't talk about? The secret thing that you've been trying to figure out since you got here and you get really annoyed when I won't tell you? It has to do with that so I really can't tell you."

Derek made an angered sound in the back of his throat that Stiles would have called a growl if he hadn't been 100% certain Derek was human. A forceful hand latched onto his good shoulder and turned him around until he had no choice but to look straight at Derek. The man's eyes blazed with barely controlled fury and indignation and his words came out cold.

"Stiles, I was never even close to happy with you keeping something big a secret from me. But you promised me you were safe and so I tried to drop it. I tried to not push too far on it. This," He gestured to Stiles' injured shoulder, "this is pretty damn far from being safe. So before you get yourself hurt again, or worse, killed, you are going to tell me what the hell is going on in this town."

The demand in Derek's voice made Stiles almost want to just open up to the guy, but his father's voice reminded him of the danger and he pressed his mouth shut. Instead of giving in, he poured his frustration at the situation into anger. This was in danger of becoming a huge problem and he knew he had to deal with it now. He had to convince Derek to care so little about Stiles and the town that he would never try to solve its riddles again.

He shrugged Derek's hand off roughly and spat out, "Actually, Hale, I'm not telling you a thing. This isn't your town. What happens here – our secrets – have nothing to do with you and they never will. Stay out of them." He threw in a glare for good measure but the look on Derek's face made it clear that directing unjustified anger at him wouldn't be enough to dissuade him this time. So Stiles went for the worst thing he could think of. "While we're on the topic of secrets, when exactly where you planning on telling me you had a psycho murderer after you? I could have died saving your stupid ass and if you had bothered to give a little heads-up then maybe I could have been a little more prepared. You put the entire precinct in danger."

Derek reeled back as if he had been physically hit. A small part –actually a rather large part if he was being honest – of Stiles ached at the look in his eyes. He longed to reach a hand out to Derek, to heal the hurt that caused that expression to darken his face.

"I didn't know." Derek said quietly. "I never thought she would put you in danger."

Stiles viciously twisted the knife in further, "How could you not have known? I looked up the file when we got back. She murdered your family so you two could be together. How could you _possibly_ have been stupid enough to think she wouldn't follow you here? If I didn't know better I'd say that you _wanted_ her to find you."

"I deserved it."

And no. That had not been part of Stiles' plan. He was not prepared for that response and those three simple words broke all the resolve he had. The anger crumbled from his face and in disbelief he asked, "Deserved what? The things she did to you? Derek, tell me you don't honestly think you deserved that."

Derek's eyes darted to the ground, fixing on a spot of dirt near his foot. "You're right," He muttered. "We both have our secrets. If you want to keep a secret that is putting you in danger then I would be a hypocrite to demand you share it with me." He passed Stiles and headed to the door without another word.

"What? No. That isn't how this conversation ends." Stiles shouted after him. He closed the distance between them and grabbed at Derek's arm to hold the older man back. "Derek, why the hell would you think you deserve what she did to you? Did you actually expect her to chase you down here? Were you planning on it all along? Because I was just making it up, I didn't think you really had expected her. I certainly didn't think… Jesus, Derek… You actually wanted her to kill you didn't you." It wasn't a question. The moment Stiles said it he knew it was true. "That's why you didn't tell anyone. You didn't want us to save you. You didn't think you deserved to be saved."

Derek rounded on him, anger back in his eyes. "I don't deserve it! I killed my entire family, Stiles. Don't you _get_ that? My whole family died screaming in agony at the hands of the woman I thought I loved. I deserve far worse than what she did to me when she found me. You weren't supposed to be there!"

"But I was! I was, and I stopped her, and I would give anything to have gotten there sooner because you didn't deserve a single second of that torture." Stiles had gotten closer to Derek as he talked and he was surprised to note just how little distance there was between his body and the angry tension that was his partner.

Slowly the anger faded from Derek's frame and his shoulders slumped as if he was caving in on himself. "I'm not saying I'm not thankful that you showed up. I am. I hate myself for it, but I really am glad you stopped her. I deserved the pain but that doesn't mean I wanted it." He stared into space as his hand rose to rub unconsciously at the worst of the gashes still healing under his shirt. Focusing back on his partner – meeting his eyes – Derek reached out to grasp Stiles' hand in his. He squeezed it lightly, ignoring for the moment the warmth that the touch filled him with, and he said, "Stiles, I know you don't want to tell me. I know you think it's none of my business, and maybe you're right. But I promise you it _does _affect me. It's causing you pain, it's putting you in danger, and it's definitely stressing you out. I'm scared for you Stiles. You saved me and I just want the chance to do the same for you. Whatever it is, it can't possibly be worse than me waking up one day to find out that my partner got killed on a case that I could have helped him with."

"I'll make a deal with you." Stiles replied with a humorless smile. "I'll tell you everything – every single detail – the day that you forgive yourself for what that bitch did to your family."

"Stiles, I-"

"You can't. I know. And neither can I."

Derek dropped Stiles' hand and took a step back, dragging his hand through his hair in frustration. "Why, Stiles?"

"Because my secret… It kills people, Derek. I'm not going to give it the power to kill you too. I've seen enough death already." With one last sad look into Derek's eyes, Stiles turned back to his locker and finished getting dressed before he left to join Scott. As he walked out the door he added as an afterthought, "Your family would want you to be happy."

Derek stayed frozen in place as he watched Stiles walk away from him. His eyes traced once more over the glaring red marks decorating Stiles' back and Derek longed to reach out and ease whatever pain they had caused. More than that, he wanted to get ahold of whoever – or whatever – had caused the jagged lines in the first place. He hated to admit it to himself but the man he had first thought of as just an annoying brat had pretty quickly worked his way under Derek's skin. It scared him to feel so strongly for another person again. Worse than that, it terrified him to know that Stiles was in constant danger and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

He wondered briefly what it would be like to actually forgive himself. He debated whether he would be capable of doing it for Stiles' sake.

He wasn't.

That didn't mean he was going to let Stiles get away with not telling him what was happening.

* * *

Scott raised an eyebrow at Stiles as he entered the gym. "You alright? Where's Derek?"

"He's not entirely happy with me at the moment. Which I suppose was my goal. To begin with at least. I thought if I pissed him off he'd stop trying to figure me out. But then things just got really horrible. Like _really_ horrible. I ended up just wanting to hug him and that wasn't my goal at all but that's what happened. Not the hugging. Just the wanting to hug. I made him upset. I wanted him angry but I ended with upset. Either way he's not happy. I don't like it. I want him to be happy. Scott, I don't like lying to him. At first it was easy because I didn't really know him and he was a bit of a jerk. Now though… Now I just feel like I want to tell him everything. I feel like he deserves to know because I don't want to keep secrets from him." The words tumbled out with no control whatsoever.

Scott was thankfully used to Stiles' word vomit so he just nodded as Stiles talked and he gave consoling looks. Until Stiles stopped for breath. "Stiles, why don't you just tell him? I think he could handle it."

Stiles gaped at his best friend in shock. "Tell him? Did you somehow miss what happened last time I let someone new into this world? Boyd is _dead_ because of me. I was selfish and I wanted a partner that knew what was happening but that only got him killed faster."

"Stop doing that, Stiles. You know as well as I do that Boyd's death would have happened whether he knew about us or not. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it got him killed."

"He could have run. If that was the first time he saw a wolf then he would have run. Instead he thought he could handle it because he had the right bullets and he knew what he was facing."

Scott scoffed, "If you really think Boyd would have run then you didn't know him as well as I thought you did. There were civilians around. If he had never seen a werewolf before he would still have charged that one to protect the rest of the crowd. His death was horrible, I get that, but it would have happened the same even if you had never told him. Even Erica knows it wasn't your fault. There's nothing that telling Derek can do except give you a partner to back you up."

Stiles was quiet for a moment. "Agree to disagree." He finally stated before motioning towards the bench press with a look that made it clear the conversation was over and he wanted to get on with the work-out.

* * *

"_Four_ more bodies?" Stiles asked in disbelief. "Were they all the same threefold murder?"

Danny shot a glance in Derek's direction – glad to note that he was on the other side of the small room – before saying a little quieter so only Stiles could hear, "Three of them are. The last one was another attack."

Stiles sighed heavily. "Of course. Because what we needed was for both of our current problems to get worse on the exact same day. Were there any witnesses to the attack? Do we need to do cover-up?"

Danny shook his head.

"Alright, that's good. What about the three, has Deaton gotten back to us on the possibility of these being the work of actual magic?"

"He thinks it is. Says that it sounds like a dark druid. He called them a Darach."

"For the rest of this conversation, the Darach is just a nut-job." Stiles commanded as he motioned Derek over to join them. "So, these new three, are we still thinking they're virgin sacrifices?"

"Actually, they had something else in common. All three of them were soldiers."

Stiles started pacing as he thought aloud, "So, it's three virgins, then three soldiers. It's happening in sets. And it's escalating. Three at once is a huge difference from how the virgins were sacrificed. So whatever this crazy is planning, they're stepping it up. Is there a way to figure out who they'll go for next?" Without waiting for an answer he sat down in front of his computer and started typing. His fingers flew across the keyboard and he muttered to himself as he worked.

While he searched Derek turned to look fully at Danny. "What about the fourth body I heard about?" Derek didn't fail to notice the way Stiles' hands froze for an instant before resuming their typing.

Danny on the other hand just shrugged and responded, "It looked like an animal attack of some kind. We'll tell people to be careful."

"You're certain it wasn't the same person who's been attacking people around the edge of the forest?"

"I suppose it could have been." Danny answered, looking at Stiles for help but receiving none. He continued, "I wouldn't jump to conclusions though. Jackson and I are looking into it. You and Stiles focus on the sacrifices." He backed out of the room quickly.

As Derek turned on his partner, Stiles mentally cursed Danny for leaving. This was becoming a habit with his friends. They abandoned him at just the wrong moments.

"It is isn't it?" Derek demanded to know. "This is that same person again? The one that hurt you? They're killing people. This psycho is killing people and you're still trying to just go against them alone."

The fingers on the keyboard stopped again and Stiles looked up into Derek's eyes. "Healers."

"What?"

"Healers are the next people that will be sacrificed. They're following the pattern of a power spell. Virgins, warriors, healers, philosophers, and guardians. All in sets of three with a threefold death. I would bet you that the next bodies that turn up will be healers. Probably doctors or something."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Well how exactly do we stop them from getting ahold of healers? Especially when we have to figure out how to catch the other person too?"

Stiles glared at Derek as he threw his hands up in frustration. "Derek, just _drop_ it. Yes, someone out there is killing people. Yes, I am dealing with it without you. It's not going to change so just leave it alone."

"Not while it's still putting you in danger."

"Why the hell do you even care? Just let me deal with my own problems! If I get killed then it sucks, but at least you'll be safe."

"What if that's not good enough for me?" Derek roared. His voice got a little quieter again as he added, "I'd rather be facing danger with you than letting you die trying to fight whatever this is alone."

"Well too bad."

"Fine. Then I'll just follow you and find out on my own."

"I'll get Scott to detain you."

"I'll knock him out if I have to."

Stiles laughed at that. "You wouldn't be able to."

"If it meant saving you, I could. I'd still feel a bit guilty about it but I'd do it. I'm not willing to just sit back and watch you die. I care too much about you."

"I just meant you physically couldn't knock him out, not that you would feel bad abo – hang on… You care too much about me?"

Derek's eyes widened as if he had only just realized what he'd said. "I… Uh… Yeah… That is… Shit, I didn't mean to tell you like that."

Stiles grinned, fight forgotten, "For the record, I feel the same."


End file.
